Jul 262015
 

SAE9

 

There are deckchairs here, monitored twenty-four hours a day by High-Impact Revenue-Assurance Leisure-Seating Operatives under an agreement the Royal Parks have with WeCare4U Inc, which also runs eleven mental health units in the Midlands, a factory in Bahrein that produces chilli sauce and riot shields, and a chain of supermarkets in South Wales. Apart from the now infamous ‘Look, it’s Taylor Swift!’ incident on July 22nd last year, no civilian has managed to sit in one of these deckchairs for more than ten seconds without being confronted with the legendary mumble, ‘That’llbefourquidmateinnit’.

There are trees here. Ornamental silver limes, rare black poplars, proud oaks, stern planes, sweet hawthorns. These trees club together, help create a micro-climate: Blatter-cold in summer, Qatar-hot in winter. Continue reading »

 Posted by at 3:28 pm
Jun 262015
 

BREL
I’ve always loved Jacques Brel’s La Chanson Des Vieux Amants. I was listening to it again the other day and started looking online for a translation. The only ones I found were really clunky, Google Translate-type things, so I decided to do one myself, drawing on the French I picked up at Lavender Road Junior School and from visiting Paris a few times. And using Google Translate. And making the rest up.

I think I might have too much time on my hands: Continue reading »

 Posted by at 4:02 pm
Jun 142015
 

SAE10

 

I buy one. Red. Of course. Two blonde women – working here forever, mother and daughter – mock-fight to serve me. Two giggles. A quid to you darling.

I have a map. They’ve given me a map. I check it, discreetly: no real man needs a map. No real friend needs a map. No real lover needs… Right over in the corner – so far over it’s in Essex not London – are The Woodland Graves. Sounds like an ’80’s indie band. Continue reading »

 Posted by at 4:09 pm
May 312015
 

 

P1080844


Reflections At The Horniman Museum

‘You are not a country, Africa. You are a concept…
You are not a concept, Africa. You are a glimpse of the infinite.’
                                 Ali Mazrui

 

You were Africa. But you wanted it all ways. Continue reading »

 Posted by at 3:13 pm
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